Issues Of Characterization
Roy Harper is a fantastic kisser. So fantastic that that is pretty much the extent of the thoughts running through Tim's head.
When Roy pulls back far enough for a breath, however, Robin's brain engages, and pieces of this particular puzzle slot into place, revealing a rather disheartening, if not entirely surprising, picture.
Placing both hands on Roy's chest, Tim pushes himself back, separating the two of them by a safety margin of at least fourteen inches. Refusing to let himself pant, he glares up at Roy, and, through a throat raw with emotion, he says – more like snarls – with lips bruised from kisses, "I'm not Dick." Not since his first few weeks of training with Batman has he been more aware of exactly what it means to carry on a legacy.
And the heartache that can bring.
Roy's eyes flicker, going quickly from surprise to confusion, then segueing into frustration, and ending up at pissed off. "I know that," he says, obviously annoyed – and not nearly as out of breath as he was, Tim noted with a twinge of envy.
"I don't think you do," Tim shoots back.
Roy snorts derisively and lounges back against the nearby wall, as if settling in for a long, drawn-out conversation. "Dude, I know Dick better than almost anyone. And I like to think that after working the occasional mission with you for the past four years, I know you pretty well, too, Tim." He jabs a finger at Tim, and smirks. "Believe me, there's no way that I could mix the two of you up."
What Roy is saying is true, and yet… "Then why…" Tim is mystified; why would Roy want him if he doesn't remind Roy of Dick? The only reason Bruce had agreed to take him on, despite his disparity of character from both Dick and Jason, was because Batman needed a Robin.
It didn't occur to him until he'd felt Roy's tongue in his mouth that maybe other people need Robin, too. He just wishes that someone, anyone, needs Tim.
Roy blinks. "Why what?" he asks, clearly confused.
"Why do you want me? You said that I don't remind you of Dick, so…" Tim bites his traitorous tongue and looks away, hoping that his mask hides his blush.
Roy's face softens and he reaches out, clasping Tim's bicep with one callused hand. "Dick has issues. I have issues. Our issues…" Roy waves his other hand around to demonstrate…something. "They tend to grate on each other and cause friction. You?" He gives Tim a pointed look and accentuates his words with a squeeze of Tim's arm. "Probably have issues, too. Everyone in this business does. I have no idea what they are, but the vibe I'm getting from you is pretty frictionless." He leers playfully. "Except, you, know, the good kind." He then tugs Tim closer, until they're almost touching. "I want you, Tim. The question for you, is: do you want me, too?"
Blinking up at Roy, Tim realizes that he's actually waiting for an answer. Tim decides that it would be unfair for it not to be a well-thought-out one, and devotes the part of his brain not consumed by Roy's touch to deciphering his own feelings on the matter. He likes Roy, of course; he's a very likeable person. They have quite a bit in common, including them both being non-meta superheroes and having led their own teams, for however short a time.
They both have insecurity complexes as big as the great outdoors, and Tim is willing to bet that Roy's spent a significant amount of time also brooding over the ways in which he's never going to measure up to Dick.
It's not nearly enough to base a relationship on, but it's somewhere to start. And he's so tired of being alone.
Before he can change his mind, Tim says, "I…yes, I guess I do."
Roy smiles sardonically. "Well, if that isn't a ringing endorsement," he chides playfully.
Before Tim can apologize – but not before his cheeks heat up with a blush – Roy's lips on are on his again, and their bodies are pressed together from chest to groin. Issues aside, friction sounds…pretty good. And Roy…well, he might not need Tim, but he obviously wants him.
Wants him, and not Dick.
That's enough for now.